Phew, okay, this one is a bit longer XD Thanks for everything in the previous chapters! I hope you enjoy this one just as equally! :D

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia and as I said, I'm working on it. England's teaching me magic so I can get the rights to own it XD

Warnings: Death, angst, Spamano

Chapter Two

Senza Fiato

"If you gave someone your heart and they died, did they take it with them? Did you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside you that couldn't be filled?" -Jodi Picoult

Honey eyes flittered open only to immediately close again due to the bright lights. Lovino groaned and shielded his eyes with his arm once he felt a headache pounding its way in along with confusion and wonder. Where in the world was he? The minute his vision adjusted, he warily scanned his surroundings of what appeared to be a bedroom- he vaguely recognized the area, as if he had been here before. The Italian sat up to find that he was alone.

"Where the hell am I?" Lovino asked himself but growled when the throbbing became fiercer and repetitive, much to his dismay.

"You finally woke up," a voice could be heard from the doorjamb.

Lovino's head whipped around (though he instantly regretted it) and saw a young man standing there, leaning against the doorway, with brunette curls of hair and stunning emerald eyes. Though it took a minute, Lovino finally recognized who it was.

"Oh, it's you," Lovino sighed and rubbed his temples to try and thwart off the pain. Why was his head hurting so horribly? And his chest was beginning to tighten as well, near his heart. He placed his hand there, thoroughly bemused.

Antonio said nothing and merely watched the latter's every move- scrutinizing him, attempting to discover any differences but finding none. He had done this many times while the Italian had been sleeping since Lovino had been constantly waking up and falling back into unconsciousness once more; he repeated the studying as if he expected to find some sort of distinction between this Lovino and the one who had been murdered to appear out of nowhere.

However, it did not.

Or at least he hoped this entire situation was a dream- but his hopes went unrealized.

"Why the hell are you just standing there? It's weird," Lovino said offhandedly, detecting the tense atmosphere that was almost as heavy as the pelting rain outside and as deafening snarling thunder. "And where am I? This isn't your house, is it?"

"It is," Antonio replied but spoke again before Lovino had the chance to. "Who are you?"

The Italian blinked twice before raising an eyebrow, "What are you talking about? Why are you asking such stupid questions? Idiot!"

Antonio's eyes narrowed, "I'll say it only once more. Who are you?"

"What the hell do you think? It's me- who else would it be? I don't have the patience for you to be playing dumb. I've got a massive headache and I don't feel like dealing with that," Lovino said and continued to rub his temples in exasperation.

"And what makes you think I want to deal with you?"

Lovino froze at those words- no; it wasn't what he said… it was how he said it. Never in all his years of knowing the Spaniard did he hear him speak in such a grave and bitter tone. It… startled him, to say the least or drove a bit of fear into him. Of course, they had their playful banters but this wasn't one of them at all. Lovino had yet to see Antonio truly angered and he in all honesty didn't want to find out. Lovino studied Antonio carefully, taking notice of how difference his lover looked compared to how he remembered him.

Antonio's hair was unkempt (more so than it usually was) and it had lost its natural luster and there were slight bags underneath his eyes as a sign of some lost and much needed sleep. Lovino made eye contact with the Spaniard once more, and as honey gold met with resolute jade, the differences were clearer than a fire in the night.

The Spaniard's orbs were dull and rid of all indication of life. Anger stormed in those eyes along with confusion and something deeper lurked within- despair and… yearning? Lovino questioned the latter but could still tell it was being stifled and it seemed Antonio was having a difficult time in doing so. Years of desolation had taken its toll on the young man and said young man had lost all hope in everything- even life itself had no meaning.

…this wasn't the Spaniard he knew and had inevitably grown to love. He was too cold and distant. His natural light and happiness had died out.

Antonio took a single step forward and Lovino's guard immediately went up. "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" Lovino repeated the question in a wry tone, pointed to himself, then looked angrily at Antonio. "Who are you? I'm not the one who's acting funny; you are!"

Antonio suddenly grabbed Lovino by the collar of his shirt and pulled the man close to show the Italian he wasn't kidding around. To be pulled so roughly by the usually gentle man alarmed Lovino to the point where couldn't speak, let alone think straight. Now he was truly frightened- who was this man! Surely he wasn't the man he fell in love with! Antonio was never forceful with him or with anyone for that matter. The Spaniard was always gentle, leaving butterfly kisses and soft touches, undoubtedly making him want more.

Where had that man gone?

Where was he now?

"L-Let me go!" Lovino ordered in shuddering tones as he struggled to release himself from Antonio's iron grip and found that he couldn't even budge. This Antonio was considerably stronger than the one he knew; much stronger.

Antonio had no patience left, "Tell me who you are!"

"It's me, Lovino, you idiot!" the Italian growled.

"Don't you dare lie to me!"

"I'm not lying! I have no reason to lie to you!"

Blazing anger flashed in Antonio's once dull eyes and shone with new, threatening vitality. Lovino continued attempting to pry himself out of Antonio's clasp but to no avail. And suddenly, and much to his surprise and relief, Antonio released but maintained his glare.

"You're not Lovino. It's impossible; I refuse to believe you," Antonio spoke in a clear and firm voice so there was no misinterpretation. "You will tell me sooner or later and for your sake, I'd confess sooner."

"Enough joking around, Antonio!" Lovino used the Spaniard's first name as a sign he almost meant serious business and also that he was desperate to find out what was going on. "I'm fed up with it! This isn't funny anymore!"

"Who's laughing?"

"Just stop it!"

Antonio moved towards the door, "Until you're ready to tell me the truth, you can come out."

"I did tell you the truth! And what're you going to do? Lock me inside the house all day?" Lovino protested.

Antonio paused before speaking, "I hope you enjoy solitude." He closed the door after those words.

And in what silence there was, the faintest sound could be heard.

Click.

He didn't…

Lovino hopped out of bed and rattled the doorknob a few times.

It was locked.

The rain had eased into nothing more than a drizzle, leaving dew to drip from the leaves and blades of grass. Antonio watched nature at its calmest while mulling this predicament over. He couldn't believe he just locked the man in the bedroom. But… it was necessary- having him out on the streets and run the risk of others seeing him would cause problems and they had already escaped a sticky situation a little over two years ago.

The day that…

Antonio shook his head to try and be rid of the memories but they were persistent and continued swallowing his mind like the plague. He had tried so desperately to tuck those away forever and he had partially succeeded in this endeavor (though not locking Lovino away completely), until he had shown up.

This was his fault.

If he had left him in that field earlier, he wouldn't feel this torture, this heartache.

But… he didn't have it in him…

Several minutes had passed and the only sounds were Feliciano's stifled sobs, echoing off the walls in what seemed to be an empty and desolate room. Antonio watched as that single tear streamed down his lover's cheek, leaving a damp path and softly hit the floor. He heard his lover's final breath escape as a faint whisper. He heard his lover's heartbeat slowing until coming to a complete stop.

"Lovi," Antonio shook the Italian a bit. "Lovi, wake up."

But he did not.

"Please," Antonio whimpered, "please wake up. You can't… don't leave me…"

Lovino had a peaceful look as one would if they were sleeping- as if he was… content with what he did. Antonio silently grasped the truth and imagined the Italian opening his eyes again to reveal exquisite golden orbs that contained more than what one would originally see. He would always remember the way they would light up when he found something truly delightful and despite the fact he would never say how much it brought him joy, the proof was still there.

He had memorized every quirk, every peeve, the way his cheeks burned a bright red when embarrassed, or the way his single curl would twitch when angered.

Antonio chuckled to himself but not out of humor.

Why did that light have to go out?

Why did their happiness have to be eradicated by the inevitable?

As he brushed back Lovino's dark hair from his face and stroked his cheek with a bloody hand, he hummed a Spanish lullaby softly as if he was soothing the man into his already acquired inertia. His heart clenched as the dagger pierced what was now delicate and horribly wounded. The former then brought Lovino close, buried his face in his lover's dark hair and wept.

Antonio erased the tears before they fell and crumpled to his knees in front of the moss-enveloped stone, running his fingers over the words engraved into it:

Lovino Vargas

Beloved friend, brother and lover

Rest peacefully

The Spaniard began to shudder underneath the oak tree that hovered over the grave, protecting it. It was the tree that they would sit beneath for hours just listening to the soft breathing one gives in contrast to their drumming heartbeats.

"Lovi…" Antonio uttered through his agony.

A gust of wind traveled over the land, one that was strong but also soft enough to dry the man's tears like a human's fingers erasing them from existence. It played with his hair and gave him a comfortable silence just as it did in the past.

"I love you…" Antonio continued.

The wind caressed Antonio's face tenderly, kissing his forehead.

I love you, too.

Lovino had noticed the feeling of emptiness throughout the house when he awoke, still a little sluggish as if he hadn't slept in over three days. He slipped out of bed and felt his way around the darkness of the room, cursing when he stubbed his toe against the nightstand. He groped along the wall, using the moonlight as his guide and flipped up the light switch.

Staring at the door, slightly hoping that it was unlocked, he sauntered towards it and placed his hand on the brass doorknob and turned and kept turning till the door was open. What made the Spaniard change his mind? He half expected to be cooped up in there for the rest of his days but this managed to bring a grimace of a smile upon his face. He was about to make a run for it down the hall but remained frozen at the doorway. Was he… afraid of this new Antonio?

No, he thought and entered the dark hall.

He trekked carefully and in the middle of the hall lest he run into something and held his hands out in front of him to forewarn him of anything in his path that he could narrowly escape from colliding into. With a cautious step, he noticed he had arrived at a staircase and eased down each step, keeping his hand on the railing.

When he was sure he reached the living room, he used the moonlight seeping into the room as a source and found his way towards a small lamp and turned it on. The room was lit and Lovino saw that he was indeed alone. Where had Antonio gone?

Despite what happened earlier… he missed him.

He missed his lovable, cheerful Antonio. This one… was too different… he lacked the liveliness and outgoing behavior that made him fall in love with the man in the first place… he felt the slight twinge near his heart again, leaving him feeling a bit breathless but also arousing questions in his mind.

He didn't know what this place was or how he had gotten here but all he wanted was to go home.

And back in Antonio's arms.

Senza Fiato- Breathless

I hope you enjoyed! Please please review! They're my inspiration XD

Arigatou~

This is Crimson signing off!